


Duty of Care

by Rasalahuge



Series: Deus ex Mycroft [8]
Category: Sherlock (TV), Supernatural
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Crack Treated Seriously, Fix-It, Gen, fathers and sons
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-09
Updated: 2015-07-09
Packaged: 2018-04-08 13:09:39
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4306332
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rasalahuge/pseuds/Rasalahuge
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Duty of care: a legal obligation which is imposed on an individual requiring adherence to a standard of reasonable care while performing any acts that could foreseeably harm others</p>
<p>Alternately: Mycroft calls Gabriel to task and is called to task in return</p>
            </blockquote>





	Duty of Care

  


**Duty of Care  
Alternately: Mycroft calls Gabriel to task and is called to task in return**

“Murder, manslaughter, grievous bodily harm, assault with intent to kill, assault,” A finger traced down the long list of crimes. The perpetrator shifted in his seat uncomfortably, “Defamation of character, manipulation, extortion,” A page was flicked, a fresh list was revealed. “Absence without leave, dereliction of duty, cowardice, defection, treason, espionage, identity fraud,” A single eyebrow was lifted in curiosity. “Impersonation of a government official, impersonation of a member of the clergy,” The page was turned again, “Theft, piracy, breaking and entering…” The finger paused and a pair of eyes rose to fix on the perpetrator with a cool expression.

“Frankly Gabriel I could continue,” Mycroft Holmes said closing the file purposefully and staring down the erstwhile being in front of him, “Twelve centuries is a long time to build up a rather impressive record,” Mycroft’s eyebrow quirked again. “Please explain to me why I should grant you a resurrection when I have thousands of other petitions lining my desk with, arguably, far more deserving people than you,”

For a moment the office was silent as Gabriel quailed in his seat, hunching his shoulders. Gabriel’s golden eyes stared down at the floor miserably as the stare from the man behind the desk became increasingly heavy.

“I helped, in the end,” The voice of the usual gregarious being was small and weak and somewhat pitiful.

“You did,” Mycroft acknowledged, “At the very last moment and only after being backed into a corner by one Dean Winchester. Does one heroic act under duress make up for a lifetime of excess and avoidance of anything resembling responsibility?”

“I didn’t avoid all responsibility!” Gabriel protested, still sounding far too weak but his eyes lifted from the floor to stare imploringly Mycroft, “I sent you reports, I did my job! Or…” the man-shaped being paused, “Well I did at first but then I didn’t hear from you, no matter what I did and… well…” Gabriel deflated; they both knew the steady decline of Gabriel from competent field agent to what he had become.

“So you are saying that you abandoned your post because you decided to act like a toddler and throw a tantrum until you received attention?” Mycroft enquired, his voice calm but with an edge of warning to his tone.

“That’s not fair!” Gabriel’s courage was returning at the criticism. “You made it perfectly clear that you didn’t actually give a damn. What motivation did I have to carry on working when I didn’t even get a brief acknowledgement?”

“The motivation, Gabriel, was that I trusted you to do your job without unnecessary histrionics,” Mycroft’s voice hardened, his expression icy cold as he stared down the figure across the desk from him.

“ _Unnecessary histrionics?_ ” Gabriel spat jumping to his feet, “It’s not like I was asking for much you know? A quick phone call to say, ‘yes I know you still exist and acknowledge you’re doing your job’ wouldn’t exactly take much out of your time,”

“Gabriel you know I am extremely busy and more to the point I have never been the sort of parent who coddles his children…” Mycroft’s eyes narrowed, considering whether or not to stand and loom over the shorter man before him to get his point across.

“Bullshit!” Gabriel spat in disgust, “Firstly this has nothing to do with being your kid. You wouldn’t send a human agent into the field without some method of regular contact so I don’t see why you wouldn’t do the same with me.” Gabriel’s eyes glowed with the force of his anger, “It’s a simple duty of care, _Sir_ that you owe us not as your kids, but as your employees and it’s one you’ve been neglecting for years.” The figure trembled with emotion, hands slamming down on the desk as Gabriel loomed over a suddenly speechless Mycroft. “And it’s not like I don’t know why. You claim to be above it all, claim that you don’t feel the same way we do but you forget _Dad_ I was _there_.” Gabriel sneered, his expressive face twisted with disgust, “I _remember_ the moment you started to pull this frigid bastard routine. You tried the emotional route once, the one where you were actually a Dad and not just a boss and you got hurt. So rather than try and move past it you retreated into this _shell_.” Mycroft flinched, it was hard not to at the accusations and at the memories Gabriel was purposefully bringing up. The honest reaction however seemed to cut through Gabriel’s anger and the man-shaped being sagged, just slightly.

“I get it Dad, I do,” Gabriel murmured, “You cared, you gave _everything_ and they murdered you for it. Horribly... brutally... _slowly_. Being a cold hard bastard might save you from getting hurt like that again but it does far more damage to the rest of us,” Shoulders slumped and suddenly Gabriel appeared tired, as tired as Mycroft felt in that moment. Yet for all his rant Gabriel also looked defeated, as if he had long since given up on getting the response he hoped for. Surprisingly Mycroft was reminded of Castiel in that moment. Castiel who, despite having just been admonished for his actions, still thought and heart to ask for clemency on the behalf of a brother he did not know well and had not liked overly much.

“I know I did wrong Dad,” Gabriel murmured quietly, “I do know that. I just…” His voice trailed off and his eyes slid shut, exhausted. Mycroft stood then, smoothly moving out from behind the desk with barely a rustle of fabric. “That moment, when I stood up to Lucifer, when I gave Sam and Dean a way to stop the whole mess…” Gabriel hadn’t noticed that he moved, just rambled in a tired and broken voice, “I felt like me again, for the first time in forever. I felt like I was doing something right. I don’t… I want to be me again, not just Loki,”

Mycroft’s hand came to rest on Gabriel’s shoulder and golden eyes shot open. Two pairs of eyes both weighed down with emotion and with exhaustion met. “You are right,” Mycroft told him. “I have failed, drastically, in my duty of care in regards to you and your siblings. Gabriel I am not… good at this. The work I do, the decisions I must make… caring is not an advantage I can afford when the lives of so many rest in my hands. I cannot act emotionally when to do so is to risk doing a great deal of harm,” He made to drop his hand from Gabriel’s shoulder but the shorter figure caught it before he could and squeezed, far more tightly than a human hand could. “I do love you and your siblings Gabriel, you are my children. It is, in all honesty, one of the reasons I left you to look after yourselves for so long. My judgement when it comes to you is not as sound as it should be.”

“Dad…” Gabriel breathed, staring at him with wide eyes.

“I think I have forgotten,” Mycroft mused with a small ironic quirk of his lips, “That you are not all like Sherlock. That watching and protecting from afar is not enough,”

“To be fair,” Gabriel said neutrally, trying to hide a smile, “Uncle Sherlock is… well… unique,”

“Most certainly,” Mycroft replied his own lips twisting slightly. “You should meet his new flatmate at some point; it makes for the best entertainment I’ve seen in years,”

“I’ll look forward to it,” Gabriel said squeezing Mycroft’s hand once more before letting go, “Now about that resurrection…?” his eyes widened as he plastered his most innocent expression across his face and Mycroft was forced to resist the urge to snort.

“You still haven’t explained to me why I should,” He reminded Gabriel even as he moved passed and towards cabinet where he kept a decanter of exquisitely aged scotch and crystal tumblers.

“Oh come _on_ Dad. Death is so _boring_. And by that I mean the state of being not the utterly terrifying but awesome anthropomorphic personification. _Please_.” Gabriel whined all fear from before banished. Mycroft rolled his eyes as he poured himself and Gabriel a measure each and turned back.

“Whining is not likely to make me more inclined to grant your request,” He chided even as he offered the scotch over. Gabriel took it but not without pulling a face, the brat never had acquired the refined taste for whiskey.

“Well I didn’t think logic was going to go over so well either,” Gabriel outright pouted as he glared somewhat balefully at the glass. “As you so helpfully pointed out I’m not exactly employee of the month,”

“The ‘employee of the month’ as you put it isn’t exactly in my good books right now either,” Mycroft informed him as he returned to his seat and Gabriel looked at him oddly. “Castiel,” Mycroft explained out loud as he inhaled the scent of the whiskey. “Very almost did something incredibly stupid. That however is beside the point. You aren’t Castiel, you are Gabriel. Why should I bring _Gabriel_ back?”

“Uh…” Gabriel said intelligently and Mycroft sighed heavily.

“Say what you like about Sherlock but at least he uses the brain he was created with. Give me something to work with Gabriel, if you will,” Mycroft said sitting back to take a small sip of whiskey and waiting patiently for Gabriel’s brain to catch up with himself.

“I’m useful?” Gabriel offered weakly and Mycroft lifted one eyebrow in his direction. “Okay so the Apocalypse messed things up didn’t it? I mean in the supernatural world, things are off balance and I can’t imagine Raphael is coping that well alone dealing with it all. I mean,” Gabriel blanched slightly, “I heard Michael took the long drop with Lucifer but I don’t know if Raphael’s still about. He is right?” he blinked in Mycroft’s direction.

“She is,” Mycroft confirmed neutrally and watched as Gabriel blinked, acknowledged the pronoun and then scowled.

“Urgh, English pronouns,” He declared and then continued, “Well if nothing else Raph could probably do with a hand and let’s be honest I’m still the best field agent you have. Twelve hundred years and I only got caught once,”

“Twice,” Mycroft corrected, “Kali has known for some time after all,” Gabriel pulled a face at that.

“Yeah okay my bad. Relationships and undercover missions don’t go hand in hand.” He admitted, “But still, twice is a pretty good record. And look I’m _committed_ now, can’t go back to the pagans now after half the biggest names still out there got slaughtered by my brother on my watch. Not exactly good for engendering trust. Getting back on the wagon is basically my only option at this stage which maybe doesn’t make me trustworthy in your book but at least makes my motivations trustworthy right?” The pleading eyes were back.

“You are saying I should trust your motivations because the _only_ reason you want to work for me again is because you don’t have anywhere else to go?” Mycroft pointed out idly and Gabriel flinched.

“No! No, that’s not the only reason,” Gabriel wilted, “It’s the only reason I know you would be able to bring yourself to trust though. You’re not big on believing the whole ‘wanting to seek redemption’ thing, at least not anymore. I just… like I said before. Maybe I ended up dead because of it but standing there in front of Lucifer, calling him on his bullshit… I’ve not felt like myself for a very long time but I did in that moment. I’d like to be me again,” He lifted his glass and, with a small grimace of distaste, took a fortifying swallow trying not to cough afterwards at the taste. Mycroft tutted in disapproval and held his hand out for the glass. If Gabriel wasn’t going to appreciate fine scotch then he wasn’t going to waste it either. With an air of relief Gabriel handed the glass over and watched as Mycroft set it on the desk and returned to his own measure.

For a long time they sat in silence, Gabriel fidgeting nervously while Mycroft studied him carefully. It wasn’t tense the way it had been when Remiel had first shown Gabriel in but it wasn’t entirely comfortable either. Too much had been said; too many emotions were at play.

Gabriel did not know this by Mycroft had already decided to resurrect him before he called this little meeting, if Gabriel’s own testimony of how he helped prevent the Apocalypse hadn’t been enough then Castiel’s defence of him had been. That determination to see Gabriel back in the land of the living hadn’t faded but in light of the conversation Mycroft made a sharp change in direction. Instead of reaming Gabriel out and sending him on his way, cowed into behaving as Raphael and Castiel had been he decided to try something else.

He reached into a drawer and pulled out a file knowing Gabriel was watching him carefully.

“There is a gentleman, here in London, of reasonable importance who has had the misfortune of attracting the attention of several demons,” Mycroft said laying the file down in front of him. “I am in need of someone to keep an eye on him and his family for the next few months in order to make sure he doesn’t do anything regrettable. As you know I avoid getting personally involved in the supernatural however your petition was appropriately timed.”

“You want me to play babysitter,” Gabriel asked in disbelief.

“Call it a trial run,” Mycroft said not letting a hint of his sudden amusement show on his face. “I have others keeping an eye out but I intend on putting you in the most important of positions watching over that which the demons will most likely use as leverage,”

“I’m guessing you don’t want to let on that this guy is being watched?” Gabriel asked carefully.

“You can be subtle when you want to be Gabriel,” Mycroft reminded him, “As you said; you _are_ my best field agent. Keep this man safe until the danger passes and we will reassess your position afterwards,” He lifted the file once more and handed it over. Gabriel considered it and then let a small smile grace his face as he took the file.

“Alright, babysitting duty it is,” He agreed, “What is this specific thing I’m supposed to be watching over?” he asked as he opened the file to read the details.

“His children,” Mycroft answered the second Gabriel’s eyes reached that little detail letting his mouth twist into a smirk. Gabriel looked at the ages of the children and then looked up sharply all colour draining from his face.

“No,” He breathed and Mycroft smirked even more.

“You’ve always fancied yourself as a teacher Gabriel. Let’s see how well you do,” Mycroft smiled around his glass as Gabriel promptly began to whine and plead once again.

It did him no good. Less than a week later Mycroft received a photograph that summarised Gabriel’s first week on the job. One look at the sandy-haired being covered in paint and muddy handprints being cuddled by two beaming four-year-olds had Mycroft chuckling to himself. Well he _had_ promised Castiel that Gabriel’s reward would be suitably ironic.


End file.
